Thursday, September 09, 2004
9/09/01
By The Erudite Redneck
Three years ago today, just about right now, I was on a commuter train between Baltimore, Md., and Washington, D.C. — the first time I’d ever been on a train (besides the subway in D.C.). Pretty excitin’ for a country boy, especially one fairly easy to impress.
Earlier in the day, I was up with the chickens, checking in at Will Rogers World Airport a little before 6, for what would turn out to be my last flight, to date. If I’d had a driver, I could’ve had him pull up to the front curb of the place, jumped out, pulled my luggage out of the back, and walked in, at least to the check-in counter, almost undisturbed.
Airports have always been one big headache for me -- but that’s just me. Especially so early in the day, when you can’t start drinkin’ because you haven’t finished havin’ your dadgum coffee yet. What a pain. Of course, I had no idea just how much of a pain airports were fixin’ to become.
Later that day, in D.C., in a hotel on Dupont Circle, I noshed finger sandwiches and crudites while sippin’ white wine (as God is my witness) with other workin’-press types from all over the country at a welcoming reception.
Why do people do that to us? The press, like the Army, travels on its belly. Coldbeer, or a coldCoke, and something substantial to eat is all it takes to make any of us happy. Finger sandwiches and horse d’ovaries generally piss most of us off.
We were all in D.C. to spend a few days at a seminar learning about how the insurance industry reacts to crises and disasters. We were all thinking about tornados, hurricanes, earthquakes, floods and other acts of God. We were not thinking about acts of man.
None of us could have fathomed the coming supreme acts of cowardice and evil, one perpetrated just 4 miles away, that would forever alter our concepts of "crisis" and "disaster." The irony of our reason for being in D.C. would become brutally evident in just 36 hours.
More anon.
END
Three years ago today, just about right now, I was on a commuter train between Baltimore, Md., and Washington, D.C. — the first time I’d ever been on a train (besides the subway in D.C.). Pretty excitin’ for a country boy, especially one fairly easy to impress.
Earlier in the day, I was up with the chickens, checking in at Will Rogers World Airport a little before 6, for what would turn out to be my last flight, to date. If I’d had a driver, I could’ve had him pull up to the front curb of the place, jumped out, pulled my luggage out of the back, and walked in, at least to the check-in counter, almost undisturbed.
Airports have always been one big headache for me -- but that’s just me. Especially so early in the day, when you can’t start drinkin’ because you haven’t finished havin’ your dadgum coffee yet. What a pain. Of course, I had no idea just how much of a pain airports were fixin’ to become.
Later that day, in D.C., in a hotel on Dupont Circle, I noshed finger sandwiches and crudites while sippin’ white wine (as God is my witness) with other workin’-press types from all over the country at a welcoming reception.
Why do people do that to us? The press, like the Army, travels on its belly. Coldbeer, or a coldCoke, and something substantial to eat is all it takes to make any of us happy. Finger sandwiches and horse d’ovaries generally piss most of us off.
We were all in D.C. to spend a few days at a seminar learning about how the insurance industry reacts to crises and disasters. We were all thinking about tornados, hurricanes, earthquakes, floods and other acts of God. We were not thinking about acts of man.
None of us could have fathomed the coming supreme acts of cowardice and evil, one perpetrated just 4 miles away, that would forever alter our concepts of "crisis" and "disaster." The irony of our reason for being in D.C. would become brutally evident in just 36 hours.
More anon.
END
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I remember that morning. A Sunday morning, and you sittin' at Will Rogers readin' the paper as Tim and I passed on our way to our plane. We chatted some, then parted ways. Our destination was a Chiefs game that kicked off at noon. Your's to Maryland-D.C. for the conference.
Save the tailgating and revelry that is Chiefs football for me, the trip was uneventful. We arrived back in OKC the next afternoon. I even chatted with a couple of cowboy types who were finding their way back to Oklahoma after rodeoing in Quebec.
Then the horror unfolded the next morning, a portion of it in your back yard at the time. Your experience is the closest I have to knowing someone near the attacks, and I'll never forget the chills I got as I prayed for your safe return home.
Save the tailgating and revelry that is Chiefs football for me, the trip was uneventful. We arrived back in OKC the next afternoon. I even chatted with a couple of cowboy types who were finding their way back to Oklahoma after rodeoing in Quebec.
Then the horror unfolded the next morning, a portion of it in your back yard at the time. Your experience is the closest I have to knowing someone near the attacks, and I'll never forget the chills I got as I prayed for your safe return home.
I remember this too, like it was yesterday instead of three years ago. When you reveal the rest of your story I'll share more of what was happening back home.
You point out the oddest thing: One thing I don't share with the rest of America is watching those next few days unfold on TV. I saw none between about 10 or 11 a.m. that morning until the following Friday night. I neither heard nor saw any news at all the 12th. Then, until Friday, I listened to radio news live up to its fullest potential, while on the road.
That's something we realized as we got your brief updates. We knew we had a lot more knowledge about what was happening to you than you did. That is a creepy feeling. But more later....
I was not in Washington as was often the case that time a year and that time of life. I was not getting on a plane which was even more probable at that. I was probably home probing eBay for treasures or some other innocuous activity. Not knowing that I was going to be closely following your odyssey in the next few days.
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